The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1887-02-09
= PLAGUE SCARED.

woman In black; she who OF all women
kills the quickest and surest.
saw her in 1873. and am one OF the
few who have seen her, and lived to tell
the tale. My poor mother saw her and
was soon numbered with the dead.
My mother was dead and buried be-
fore / heard OF her Illness. received
written message from my little brother
Julius. It was very short: Mother Is
dead-don't come home"
OF course, returned home as soon as
possible. / was In despair. / was not
afraid OF the cholera. What had ], in my
state OF mind, to dread2 In fact, al
most prayed for death.
When arrived In the vicinity of our
village. shuddered to SEQ on oycry hand
signs OF the desolation that had been
wrought by the scourge. The church
bells In the villages, at other times SO
musical, morning, noon and night, were
dumb and silent as the grave Itself. The
wheat In the fields had rlpened. The
golden grain had fallen to the earth and
sprouted again. There was nobody to
gather the rich harvest. Wagons loaded
with empty collins were the only vehicles
to be seen on the public highways.
l lost no time In reaching my native
village. Tho nearer / approached my
BY a dreadful sense OF desolation. White,
fieecy clouds were drifting across tho az
ure sky. My imagination transformed
the clouds Into weird shapes. To methcy
looked like troops OF spectrcs In white
winding sheets. carrying long scythes.
AS / passed the country house OF gen.
leman. Mr.. Nasay, with whom ] was
we'll acquainted, ! saw him leaning
over the gate. He stared at me without
the slightest sign Of recognition. There
was an expression Of intense WEAKNESS
on his face. After I had passed the
gate, he aroused himself and called
out:
when you get to Kisalva, stop q
moment at the Silky mansion and tell
Silky that my wife. who is his sister. Is
dead"
nodded assent and drove on. 1t
was not long before met the coach
man OF the Silky family. lie was on
:" Where arc you going9" asked.
AT am going to inform Mrs. Nasay that
her sister has Just died."
delivered my message to the coach
man.
q In that case / might aswell go back
remarked the coachman, In matter-of-
fact sort OF way, as II nothing unusual
had happened. adding:
GAS they both are dead thoy can tell
each other SO in the next world. and
turning his horse he rode slowly back.
At length reached my parents house.
and was surrounded by the scenes OF my
boyhood. There was no hurrying to the
gate to meet me. no waving OF handker-
chiefs, no signs of welcome. The win
dows did not greet me with their friendly
eyes, for they were covered by the
shutters.
No door opened as my carriage drove
up. There did not seem to be q living
human being on the premises. A face
appeared above the fence OF our nex'
door nelghbor. 1t was young Janot
Kali. He stared at me stupidity but saie
nothing.
"Good morning. Janos."
Him." he grunted, as he turned away
/ walked through the yard. The SAM
deathllke stiffness prevailed. tried 7
open the doors, but in vain. They wer
All locked. ] called aloud. but there was
40 answer. A white cat came out OF the
stable, looked at me curiously and passed
on ms II surprised to see ne.
There was peculiar smell OF cooking
In the DIR, and going through the stable
Into the yard, saw my young brother
Julius. He was sitting on the ground In
front of small fire trying to broil q
chicken on stick. BY his side was our
house dog Hector.
Julius r.
The boy looked up, recognized me.
shook hands, but he did not smile or
show any Indication OF being glad to see
me. looked at him more attentively,
and perceived that wonderful change
had taken place. There was a peculiar
look of age about him. Between his eyes
were three deep perpendicular lines, or
rather burrows.
"What are you doing. my boyT ]
asked.
II am getting dinner" he replied, in
differently.
"Whydo you attend TO that2 Is there
nobody In the place to cook for your"
Nobody" he replied, dryly.
Where are they alli
"Who?"
"The rest Of the people belonging to
the house,"
They are dead"
CAN the servants dead2"
Most OF them are dead, but some ran
away"
"Why did you stay here2 Why didn't
you go to our relatives2"
"They refused to see me. They were
afraid OF the cholera"
Then there Is nobody on the premises
| except your"
Nobody except Hector. must feed
him."
" Why don't you stay In the house In
stead of camping out here?"
IT don't like to GO into the house
| Somebody died In every ROOM"
| sat down on the box near the fire, and
little julius turned his attention to roast
| ing the chicken on the stick. The dog
began to paw the ground with his fore
feet.
"Down HECTOR exclaimed the boy
angrily, 1--WE don't want any more graves
We have had enough Of them"
/" Do you think"
Yes, Hector knows beforehand wheI
ANYBODY is going to de-"
There was q painful silence for lev
| minutes and then remarked:
He will not have to dig many NOR
graves"
My brother, whom I had left thre'
weeks before happy, romping, talkativ'
child, did not reply, but kept on staring
at the fire. placed my hand on his curly
blond locks, and said:
MY poor little brother, tell me-whei
did our mother die?"
81 don't know" he replied, In the SAM
indifferent tone OF voice. 81 can't keel
the run OF the days. 1t seems to me tina
| 1t was long time ago"
Why didn't you let me know in tint
to come to the funeral?"
/" Funerals who talks OF funerals
The goodman took the coffin on hi
shoulder and carried it to the famil.
vault"
Tears rolled down my cheeks, and Eel
upon the hot Goals and ashes.
7" Don't cry" said the child In grul
voice. Let us act like men come wha
may"
And this boy was only twelve years 0
age.
:" What has become OF our coachman
Klapka? ! know that he did not ru
away"
"He is In q corner OF the stable o
some straw, dying"
I went into the stable and there Ia,
the faithful old family servant TIL
| cnlor .,f htss facf was a blnish LACK nm.